From my notebooks

Summer 2006
page 3

These words are my priest, my lover, my friend and my enemy. These are round words and triangular words.

Outside I can hear loud knocks from inside escaping the street.

Thunder, white, swallow, red. Dreams. shit. callow, slow. smooth. dumb.

Profound Beaks. Blunder robotic, the earth called the buildings.

I loved it. I vowed. The ring pierced itself upon or on my finger, and after a brief darkness my eyes exploded out from behind their lids.

The gods sent spiders to

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impostor as my hands which now spun webs around your hips. Ivan the terrible. I’m being oblivious. cords on the blue blue sea. Then or now she was the victim of a gasp.

I tried to prove to you that the sand would rise and shift one day.

Profound, not shock and awe. Drowning or
gaging with jealousy. Teeth bright as apples.

Let me fuck your shit or something. Why don’t choo know that I wrought my hands out of bewilderment.

studyabroad.com
gradschools.com

I didn’t want this at all and I’m frustrated. Puta bitches.

I’m ready to put a cap in your gangsta ass. So yesterday I studied logic for a couple of hours. Today I go do the same. Tomorrow I do it the same. We don’t have class on

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wed. Then when fucking monday comes along I will have learned something. Supposedly. But I will read the rest of the history book too. Then I will read the rest of the plays. Tomorrow we meet for the club. I’m gonna sketch a constitution. That’s easy or fun. Then I’m gonna have a bunch of shit to do; filling out forms. When that happens I have to try and make them do fund raisers. Fund raisers for everyone. I don’t want to work today even though I need the money. I’m not cut out for life in general. I still haven’t done my taxes. What else haven’t I done? Shit on my leg. So if I get out of work @ 10pm I have an hour to study or so. I have 2 weeks to get ahead in life. Two weeks to get ahead in life.

Albert Goldbarth.

From my notebooks

Summer 2006
page1

Ten Things for 10 days
day2

1. Don’t forget the list.
2.Remember 10 smells & write them down
3. Complete the list of ten things
4. pay for emergency loan
5. listen to the republic
6. do 10 pushups ten times
7. be home in time for project runway
8. finish cleaning my room
9. Write ten pages divided by two
10. spend less than $20 today

Ten smells for day 2
1. The road smells heavy and moist with undertones of gasoline and hot rubber
2. this morning when I took a shit it smelled putrid, insane gaging smell like rotten baby shit.
3. my room smells like stale cigars, sweet cheap cigars and moisture

Page 2
a pillbox sitting upon the ideal dresser, split down the half into red and white, shaped like a flattened ovary. open the box with your ideal hand against the ideal background. The pills shine white as dreams, whiter than ideal teeth under hot lights. They have to be self lighted. You hold one between your thumb and pointer finger, only as firmly as necessary, adjust your weight as you lean your head slightly back, and feel the basic taste of your fingers as they briefly make contact with your mid-tongue wetness, swallowing with only saliva and air. You right your sight and equilibrium, refocus your eyes and look down at your belly legs and feet.

This goes out to the Devil who set me on fire.

Latin chicks and black chicks
and white chicks and fat chicks
and skinny chicks and
tall chicks with chubby cheeks and all chicks
who look like they don’t have nowhere to be,
should spin once around and follow me
to an isolated stairwell or an electrical corridor
that smells like ozone and chlorine
for a cold touch from the concrete floor to
remind you why you wanted more than
a cold touch on your radical poison
lips and the isolated portions of your lower
inside thigh. Sigh an ancient sigh for me.

Steve Rodgers is Dead

I woke up this morning thinking of highschool.  Now
that Steve Rodgers is Dead.

I’ve got eight poems to decide on in twenty minutes and haven’t started looking. I should choose something no one will recognize. Will the phone ever lay the fuck down
and let me have my way? I doubt it. I want to strangle you, whoever you are on that other end.

Didn’t do a lick of good after I got out of work last nite. Then there was a bowl and ISKA kickboxing. But who am I kidding? I need a laptop computer. Arg. I need a regular desktop. It must be so. Only two hundred?

In my daylight hours I dont spend enough time in the sun. Yesterday I was reading a book in front of the store. It was a good book and it was a nice afternoon and I was high on love. We ate chinese food. She was working, I was getting my soul ready to work. Even though, I don’t believe in the soul as such, I don’t know what it means, what it does, all that stuff. I still have to prepare it, just like everything else needs to be prepared.

Every part for you. When I goto sleep at night I’m under the covers, sometimes with my shoes on and all my clothes on.

My stomach was bumbling last night, I ate too many times yesterday. I might gain weight. Need a hair cut, a shave. My feet are dirty. I need to wash my feet. Not to mention my pits. I’ve got a notorious smell.

We bought coffee last night and I got espresso. I’ve never had espresso before, and it was obvious why when I tasted it. Maybe espresso is good in Italy.

Let me be honest with you at least once.

working hard

my feet are profoundly tired.

Let me tell you what I mean when I say this. I mean that I feel my feet. That means that my foot is a part of my body(which includes my brain) and my body has an emotional reaction to it’s environment. Some actual physical phenomena have stimulated receptors in my foot. In this case, the floor(which I feel through the layers of my shoe) has been acting on my foot for about six hours. I have added energy to this reaction by moving about nimbly and with grace. Therefore the stress of the reaction on my foot tissue and the degree of sensory stimulation has been affected. This has created a strong feeling in my brain. I am acutely aware of my foot tissue at this moment. As I become more aware of my foot tissue and the damage it has sustained in this stressful reaction, I am given opportunity by my awareness to affect change in my awareness of my foot tissue. This means that I can choose what parts of my foot tissue to be aware of, or not to be. I have choosen not to be acutely aware of the pain (which I still feel) but instead to be aware of the sensation of warm heat that accompanies tissue inflammation. The awareness of this process causes the brain to divert more blood flow to the corresponding brain structures, making them more active. Meaning that it makes more blood flow to your feet, thereby increasing the positive sensation and causing the pain to decrease as foot tissue is repaired by increased blood flow.

positively mind boggling.

My story with interludes.

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